Predators Under The Table
by Sonsasu The Gray Dragon
Summary: I've never been fond of politics, let alone Yautja. Funny thing is I landed an occupation that contains both. It isn't easy when you're the target of a persistent male's affections, especially being an ambassador for the human race. Read FFN profile.


**-Warning-**

**This contains some sexual content, though nothing that will scar your minds**

**If bothered by this, please click the back button**

**I rated this T because being a teenager you already have an understanding of the simple naughty junk**

**If you do not, please exit**

**Beyond that, hope you enjoy**

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**Predators Under The Table**

**By, Sonsasu**

**Episode One**

**"Wondering Fingers"**

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"Oh, no Ambassador Meryl, Yautja can be just as perverted as any Ooman…if not more so."

This, more or less, was how our private conversations started.

"And I would have greatly preferred a blind ignorance to that fact High Arbitrator Ko'Vichi, but I thank you for this new information. However please, get off me." _"You dirty, lecherous, slobbering, ancient buzzard, your breath smells like a stagnate pond of swamp water."_

Despite my inward insults crying for freedom, two controlling factors hovered within my mind, reeling me back from the truly dangerous verbal paths my bent judgment might foolishly tread. The first vocal anchor keeping me in line garmented itself in the vague guise of knowledge.

To even dare to mutter those unspoken discourtesies in the hearing vicinity of a Yautja with his level of status, frequently, and immediately lead to a violent mutilation as restitution.

Rather easy to remember if I do say so myself, and believe me, I received reminders that could stick around for an endless eternity.

All thanks to a certain Queen that adored the longest, most ungodly, nearly put you in a coma, chats. The rare, but occasional dealings between the anile High Matriarch, usually subjected me to a few agonizing hours of her famous gabfests. Having to listen to them, counting the seconds tick away from your life as the words wore down the very fibers of sanity like a classic cheese grinder, and each of the themes _always_ being about honor.

The depths and prisons of Hell itself did not contain any fiend, any monstrosity, equal to _that_ type of torment.

Your mind being slowly decomposed, liquefying, by watching a faulty vid-mail caught in a reoccurring loop, was a lesser death then talking with Matriarch An'kric…great business manipulator though, very shrewd, _very_ intelligent, while always giving out that grandmotherly air to herself.

As for the second notion that maintained an almost unbreakable grasp on my tongue, well not that unbreakable, came from six long years of training. When I was trapped under the harsh environment of academy life, I swiftly acquired several good lessons on how to keep one's mouth bound under an iron plate.

Unfortunately, immense frustration that I knew would not have a relief, connected to an unwanted situation, usually returned me; if briefly, to my primary upbringing in the dark, dank streets of Solis City back on Earth.

"Damnit you bog-brained moron, why would you think I want anything _else_ to do with you? Really, is there some kind of blockage in that thick skull of yours? Perhaps you screwed those quills on your head a little too tightly, or maybe, you're just an unintelligent half-wit, now let me up!"

My training was good, but not _that_ good.

With raw agitation blistering my thoughts, I slipped out of the Yautja language, and hurtled right back into plain English. Ko'Vichi rattled in his throat, and like a human who would sigh with a pleased hum, he offered a deep, rumbling purr instead.

"Ah, there is the defiant Ooman female I invited to my bed."

I viciously tugged at my wrists, striving to relive myself of the solitary hand imprisoning them. "Yeah, and if you un-wedge yourself from between my legs you'll find out just how defiant I can really be!"

Bent over the curved lip of a sunken, handmade bathing pool, or pond, or whatever you want to call it, I could not move. I was not even capable of arching my back, let alone shutting my parted thighs.

With the muscles in my neck bitching, I lowered my cheek to take five on the unpleasantly warm stone below, using the angle to crane my neck, and narrow my gaze at the smug alien visage above me.

Marvelous…just freaking marvelous, heh, and you, dear readers, you are no doubt wondering why I am complaining. Well, it _all_ began when I made the mistake of consenting to a salacious offer he made two weeks ago. After my idiotic agreement, I followed him to his massive dwelling, back when I was still on the Yautja home world.

In my basic assumption, I had believed that by losing my virginity to him would be an intelligent course of action. My reasoning, at the time, was with his age, he had to contain a treasure-trove of experience, and even though I did not hold my virtue in high regard, why would I lower myself, and hand it to someone unworthy?

In truth, there was an ulterior motive.

I was just as curious to understand, and enlighten myself to what the glorified act of sex felt like, and with life being so chancy in the unforgiving realm of politics, I could not risk having a continual lover, for far too many cloaked, shady figures would spy that as a golden possibility to usurp power. On a side note however, and as much as I am loath to admit it aloud, rumors of his…skills stand very, dear god, _very_ true.

Upon the next day, barely able to entice fainting limbs to movement from the previous night's activities, I staggered free of his sprawling abode in the dim scarlet, humid glow of morning, remaining under the impression there would be no attachments.

Guess again boys and girls!

By the manner in which he pestered me, increasing his _endearments_, over the next two weeks, you would think we were a budding couple.

Thing is, it was just small stuff at first.

Running the back of his hand across my back in passing, caressing my arm ever so lightly, brushing lewdly against me whenever the opportunity presented itself, the occasional sweet purr aimed in my direction… Obviously, you get the picture, and I, in my absentmindedness, had concluded these as dismissible things. After all, touching is a common practice among the Yautja, more so with males, being that they generally reside together, both on their gigantic colony ships and home world, with the females living in the main cities or higher areas of the ships, as I had discovered through my occupation.

Actually…I barely noticed when he touched me, having had no time to spare with so many work related piles waiting on my desk.

"Would you-" a grunt dislodged itself as I sought to shift my spread legs. _"I feel like I'm straddling a tree trunk, minus the rough bark. Oh wait, can't forget his Happy Branch…"_

"Look damnit, I'm begging here, okay? Let. Me. Up. If anyone from my division were to see me like this with you I-" my brain fluttered to a stop for a heart constricting second. If I lied, and that nose of his informed him of it, not only would such a thing lead to more complications, his mountainous sense of _honor_, would see me severely punished…in his ideal and style.

Cue my shudder.

I took a breath, and even with the momentary lapse from a sudden brain fart, an ideal appeared. "I…would immediately be deported back to Earth."

In a way, I was not lying; I merely gave him a half-truth.

Above my prone, pinned form, his torso tensed along my back, even his hips ceased in their gentle thrusting against my _clothed_ bottom. "This will not come to pass. Your spineless leaders will not risk angering me with such an action," he dropped down a fraction, his heated breath gliding over the side of my face, and his already deep voice creeping an octave lower, "_my_ soft-meat pet. If I insist you remain, they will concede to my wishes." He resumed in his earlier act of gentle, yet firm grinding against me.

Ko'Vichi, the frigging bastard, had a point.

As _the_ High Arbitrator, and the oldest warrior currently alive, he held an immense sway of influence over the opinion, and ethics of many Yautja, even some high rolling females. He also, regrettably, had an almost complete monopoly grip on the direction of human politics when dealing with his species. The archaic bugger conducted the brunt of business between our peoples. Luckily, if not for An'kric and her dominance over the key-point decisions, my employers would have fully crumbled.

Sad to say, he still comprised a magnitude of power to swing around if he wanted something, or made even the smallest claim for action, to force others to leap to bend to his will, his own race included.

Yet I, upon assuming my responsibilities as the new ambassador, in a simple, but sublime way, had continually skirted the razor edges of his, at times, arrogant demands on the human government. Like turning mighty blows from a sword to harmlessly flow past, I deflected, and countered him in speech during meetings, willingly, and regularly dancing on the scythe of destruction to arrive ahead in success.

Holy crap…that may be the reason his interest in me had originally stirred.

The antique ignoramus was accustomed to receiving _his_ way, not locating a challenge he had to work toward to defeat. Oh good God, and just like the fool I am, I had to prance haphazardly about and give him exactly what his lifestyle had honed him for, the one thing he relished, and reveled in doing…

_To divide and conquer_, as some famous person had said, whose historical name eludes me right now.

Ugh, and I do suppose that is what I get for recklessly barging in on Ko'Vichi during a bath…and no, I only wanted to clean myself and relax for a change, paying _him_ a visit was not on the to-do-list. With Yautja preferring to bathe together, I had imagined that because of who I was and with sharp wit to back me up, that my two talents might be my rescuers if I encountered difficulties with another Elder. Sadly, brute strength, one-on-one, always dominated those who battled with words, meaning myself if that went sailing over your heads.

Thus, I fumed.

It was not a quiet, nor a demure emitting of anger, for I had decided to relinquish the composure known for one from my position, and reverted to my real self, before reversing my life to a more respectable career.

"_Damnit, damnit, and damn it all to hell, I want fucking up!"_

Hot, boiling ire drew my teeth together, gnashing them tightly onto one another. This petulant fit lasted until I heard their surfaces creepily creak in protest, and I was not enjoying the discomfort of the self-inflicted pressure to my gums. Therefore, as much as it made my very blood seethe, an aimless agitation would get me nowhere. Submission, though I despised it and its aspects, would lay the expressway for my freedom.

I relinquished the unrest of my pent-up emotions through a ghoulish sigh, before aligning toward the attribute of female charm.

"Ko'Vichi," I dropped his title, and went for a more sweetly coated, personal air, while chocking on the dry, horse sized pill that was my pride, "c'mon _please_ let me up. I have work that needs my attention, and I'm _grievously_ sorry for intruding on you without properly announcing myself. I didn't realize the bathing rooms were occupied."

He ignored my honeyed plea and apology, choosing instead, a more action related reply.

The hand, once aggravatingly used to play the role of a shackle for my wrists, disappeared. Its new relocation, much to my personal mortification, caused a multitude of traitorous responses to influence my once mute anatomy to rejoice. His fingers, cunning masters of the carnal arts, manipulated me, and then liberated several noises, which I absolutely refused to call whimpers.

Even with the thick barrier of clothing worn by ambassadors, he still found that hidden pearl of pleasure, using my pant's inseam to press against it. The unanticipated, solid force against it made me jerk, and although my hands no longer suffered restraint, all they did, successfully, was latch onto his other arm that encircled my ribs. Back and forth, his idly stroking fingertips became the villains to my mental health and ability to sustain from spilling any incoherent verbal nonsense.

Desperate as I was, my gaze, slightly unfocused, still searched for some way out. Ko'Vichi, more than likely, thought I was tossing my head from what he was doing, and that was not completely untrue…the silver tongued imbecile.

Concealed in overhanging growth, mainly to give it that homey feeling from their world when on the colony ships, were the private bathing pools for ranking Elders and ambassadors.

I did a quick catalog of things that _might_ help me, battling the reactions of twitches and spasms like a lascivious tennis match.

Giant rocks, tempting, but nope. Leafy vines, though they did give a nice image of strangling him, would not avail me, nor would the various attractive jungle plants surrounding the pool of water assist in my getaway either.

Bah, where were those man-eating flytraps when you needed them?

A broken moan escaped before I could mentally produce the command to contain it. My hips, against the reigns of rationality, sought to follow, and increase the exquisite interaction when his fingers heartlessly paused.

All right, since a diplomatic approach did nothing for me, I resolved wiggling was the final option, if just to satisfy the natural urge for a struggle. Exactly as a worm does when trapped in an ankle-deep puddle, I struggled to gain any inch of exemption from my tormentor.

Oh boy, did it do me a fat lot of good…

My exertions only _aided _in creating a friction against his unfortunately bare, and _massive_, pole prodding eagerly against my backside, and as you can guess, his unyielding frame did not budge. The smooth, soft, ivory cream material of my ambassador pants dredged up a gravely purr to radiate from his throat, and he happily renewed his full attention to only the bud of terribly sensitive nerves, which I should remind you is _still_ covered, when I arrived at the conclusion, fighting also did not help.

I gave a faint nasal whine as my body reduced to a liquefied state under his merciless mastery of flesh.

The warm, okay scratch that, _near_ scalding, steamy water, did not ease the blooming flush to my skin while I began reluctantly to pant, the unsteady breathing brought on by the sharp darts of sensual delight buzzing through my trembling frame from my accosted gender.

"Fuck," I hissed.

Ko'Vichi made that strange trilling sound I knew as Yautja amusement.

"Beloved pet, your first evening in my chambers barely offered you a sample of what I can perform as a lover." He flexed his fingers, and then rolled them in a single, slow push against what water-besotted fabric concealed from view.

My breathless cry emerged as a whoosh of expelled air.

"I can easily indulge, and lavish any and every wanton need you have."

I forced my lips to confine themselves between my teeth when his hot breath teased the back of my neck, and the tips of his mandibles ghosted through the finer hairs decorating its surface.

"And uncover your Ooman fantasies until you beg _me_ for-"

My dull, clouded mind took scarce seconds to register that his dark promise of ravishment and amorous play had halted. It did nothing to stop the single whimper my seething sex insisted on him hearing however.

The thought of committing alien-murder in the first degree for ceasing the flutter of his fingers appeared like a glowing neon sign, however, and though my sizzled brain had collapsed into a pile of ash, my incinerated attention span reconstructed itself in an instant. I felt my stomach plummet like a bowling ball thrown into the depths of a pool.

Still distant, yet drawing nearer, were the steady click of footsteps coming toward the bathing quarters…

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**To be continued in the next episode**

"**Appetite"**

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**-Disclaimer-**

**I do not own Predator**

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**-Claimer-**

**©2008 I hold copyrights to this story, its characters, names, ideals, and plot, etcetera…**


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